


How It All Happened

by IAmTheGrayArea



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-06-01
Packaged: 2017-12-07 20:13:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/752590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmTheGrayArea/pseuds/IAmTheGrayArea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glenn finds himself in a precarious situation with the hillbilly, Daryl. It's a dangerous one, but one that could also be hugely beneficial for the both of them. He's just got to figure out how not to be murdered by Daryl in the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Time

The first time it had happened was weeks ago. Weeks before this Rick Grimes guy came stumbling into camp, acting like some big savior and bossing everyone around.

It had happened by mere accident. Daryl had been out shooting squirrels, granted a little too close to camp, when he misfired at the first sign of movement. Thankfully, his shot had been slightly off, because it barely grazed and missed Glenn's side, ripping a small hole into the Asian's shirt. The hick had heard the man yell out, and when the confrontation between them inevitably happened, Daryl couldn't help but smirk and make a snide remark.

"Come on," Daryl said, resting the cross bow against his shoulder. "It wasn't even that close. You can stop actin' like a damn pussy."

"You almost killed me!" Glenn protested, with his hands still clutching his side, as if he were bleeding profusely. "An inch or two over, you would have!"

"You're actually lucky, little china man. I almost never miss." Daryl brought his hand up, index, middle and thumb fingers forming a gun, and he pointed it at Glenn. He closed one eye and fired the "gun" right at Glenn's head. "Bang."

"In case you haven't noticed, we're on the same side," Glenn retorted, close enough to slap Daryl's hand away from his face. "And why the hell are you shooting that God damned thing so close to camp?"

Daryl advanced on Glenn, getting right in his face for a moment. "And why the hell are you wandering so far from the pack?"

Glenn pushed Daryl away from him. "I had to take a piss. I was on my way back."

"Don't touch me," Daryl warned, keeping his distance for a second, but then allowing his anger to get the best of him. He advanced again, shoving Glenn back. It was a hard push, much harder than the one he had just received.

The Asian man almost fell to the ground, and when he finally regained his balance, he had obviously had enough of Daryl Dixon for the day. For the fucking year for that matter. "Fuck you, Daryl. How about you just do us all a favor and fuck off, for good. No one wants you here. And then you can go back to being a true inbred. Tell me, what is it like butt-fucking your own brother?"

Daryl lunged, absolutely furious, and had Glenn on the ground within a second. He landed one punch, two punches, three punches, before Glenn was able to squirm from out beneath him and crawl away. Daryl reached after him, only to get kicked in the face. He was about to make a second attempt when he remembered that his baby lay abandoned on the ground next to him. He grabbed his crossbow and cocked an arrow into place, ready to shoot.

Glenn heard the familiar sound of Daryl's bow and froze. He rolled to face the hick, blood running down from a contusion on his forehead. Bruising was already beginning to pool under his right eye. He put his hands out in front of him, as if they could stop an arrow. Unfortunately, Glenn had bore witness to the power of Daryl arrows and he knew if he were to be shot, it would be clean, all the way through.

"Daryl!" he said desperately, already feeling the arrow rip through his abdomen, or straight through his eye socket. "Don't! Please, just stop!"

Daryl moved to within a foot of Glenn, bow positioned for the head. "Doubt I'll miss this time."

"Listen, it was a fucked up thing to say," Glenn said, fear almost stopping his words from forming. "I'm sorry. I swear, I'm sorry." His breathing was heavy and for a moment, it was all the movement there was. Just his chest rising and falling hastily.

Daryl watched Glenn's eyes for a moment, his fingers tightening for a brief second against the trigger before eventually letting the bow drop to his side.

Glenn exhaled heavily, closing his eyes. "Jesus Christ," he whispered a couple times. "Jesus fucking Christ."

Daryl sucked at his front teeth, just watching Glenn. "Teach you to mess with me." Eventually Daryl stood, turning his back on the Asian.

A couple minutes went by and nothing was said. Daryl was trying to figure out if his face was swollen from the kick to his jaw, when he heard Glenn give off a slight laugh, barely audible. He turned.

"What?" he asked bluntly.

Glenn looked up like he just realized Daryl was still in the near vicinity. "Oh," he said. "I'm not fucking telling you." He laughed again as he stood from the ground.

"What are you talking about?" Daryl asked.

"It's nothing."

"What are you fuckin' laughin' about?" Daryl asked, anger beginning to resurface.

"Look, it's nothing," Glenn emphasized the last word. "Plus, you are the _last_ person I would ever tell this to." Glenn went to leave, to go back to camp, lucky to be alive and in one piece, when he heard the quickening steps of Daryl coming up behind him.

"Daryl," he began, but then he felt his body spinning around and his back being slammed up against something hard. When he regained his focus, he realized that Daryl had pinned him to a tree. "Fuck, Daryl," he complained.

"You're going to tell me what's so fucking funny," Daryl said, using his forearm against Glenn's chest to pin him to place.

"You don't want to know, trust me. You won't share the humor." Glenn grimaced as Daryl dug his elbow deep into his chest. "Alright, alright!" Glenn caved.

"Yeah? Okay, out with it," Daryl urged.

Glenn opened his mouth, as if he were just about to say it, but then his lips closed again. He shook his head, closing his eyes momentarily. "Ah, fuck it," he said. "I'm turned on. You fucking turned me on."

Daryl broke whatever physical contact there was between them, anger first appearing in his features and then confusion. "What?"

"When we were…" Glenn motioned to where they had just been rolling around and wrestling.

"And why the hell is that funny?" Daryl asked.

"Because," Glenn said. "You on top of me like that…" he paused, as if he were thinking about it. "Was the most action I've gotten in months. I can't help myself…"

Glenn trailed off and Daryl just stared at him, with those intense eyes.

Unexpectedly, Glenn felt a similar feeling as before, that moment before Daryl had jumped him the first time. But this tension wasn't filled with rage, it was filled with something quite different. "Daryl," he said, his voice sounding a little frightened.

"Take your pants off," Daryl said. Dead serious. That intense stare still holding Glenn in place.

"What?"

"I said, take your fucking pants off," Daryl repeated, already working at his pant's zipper.

"Daryl, are you fucking serious?" Glenn asked, but he was working at his pants as well. "Are we actually fucking doing _this_?"

"Just shut up," Daryl said, grabbing Glenn's arm and practically dragging him into a more covered area. He gripped the sides of Glenn's pants and yanked them down, forcing Glenn to face away from him.

"Get on your knees," Daryl said. "Now."

Glenn obliged, feeling the harsh ground scrap against his bare knees. His placed his hands, palms down, out in front of him. He heard Daryl's jeans fall to his ankles and felt the heat of Daryl body close behind him. Rough, callused fingers wrapped themselves around his hips, guiding his body to where Daryl wished it to be. He heard Daryl spit into his hand and knew that within seconds Daryl was going to insert himself. They were going to be fucking. Him and the full blown hillbilly from southern Georgia, were about to fuck each other.

And without much ease or concern for Glenn, Daryl inserted himself all the way in. One swift movement and Glenn was completely full, feeling both the pain and odd pleasure of the sensation. The Asian grimaced, bowing his head. He slipped the hat from his head and bit down onto it, willing for Daryl to rock back and push into him again.

Daryl thrust, gripping Glenn's hips, helping the Asian to get into his rhythm. Before long, Glenn felt his dick getting harder and harder. It had been so long since he had felt anything close to this kind of contact. And he wanted badly for Daryl to just reach a little further and grip onto his dick, pumping at the same time he thrust into him. But he knew he couldn't ask for such a personal request. His own hand would have to suffice.

This was like prison. They weren't fucking because they loved each other. They weren't fucking because they were attracted to each other. It was merely slim pickings. And they needed a good fuck. It was nothing more.

It didn't take long for either man to get to the brink of climax. Glenn had to admit that the grunts Daryl was making seemed to help his climax significantly, because it ripped through his small frame, causing him to shake violently for moment, still feeling Daryl pump into him. But his contractions must've helped Daryl because it wasn't seconds later that Daryl was releasing himself into Glenn, giving a couple weak, last pumps as he drained himself completely.

And then they both just panted, relaxing a bit. Feeling release again for the first time in a long time. Daryl's hands, probably absentmindedly, ran their way up Glenn's back. His rough fingertips scratching upward and Glenn closed his eyes, trying not to like it so much.

And then there was the snap of a twig. Probably nothing. But they were apart in a split second, with Daryl already zipping his pants back up. Daryl grabbed his crossbow, searching around the grounds for any visible movement.

Glenn figured it was an animal or the wind even, but he knew Daryl was thinking it was the shoddier option – a geek. Or even worse, a witness. Daryl would probably be willing to shoot either of the latter options.

"It's probably nothing," Glenn said.

"Shut the fuck up," Daryl said, disgust clear in his voice.

"Daryl," Glenn said, but the other man wouldn't look at him.

"I said shut up _faggot_!" Daryl said.

Glenn rolled his eyes; just knowing that word was going to be thrown in his face. "Alright, whatever." He stood and dressed himself. He began to walk away when Daryl stopped him

"Glenn..."

"What?" he asked.

"Breath a single fucking word of this to anyone and I swear to God I will personally skin you alive and feed the chunks of your body to the geeks."

"Got it, Daryl," Glenn said, waving his hand as he continued to walk away. Classic homophobic hillbilly reaction.

"I'm fucking serious, china man!"

"I know."

And that's how the first time happened.


	2. The Second Time

And that's how the first time happened.

A week passed with little to no communication between the two men. Except for this one snide remark Glenn decided to make one night while everyone was sitting at the campfire.

They had been talking about whether or not they should move the camp to a new location. People argued for and against the move, and they began debating the safety of the camp.

"Walkers haven't even discovered the camp yet," Shane argued. "Until then, I think we should stay. We're set up here. Safe here."

A couple people nodded in agreement.

"Well, I just feel like sitting ducks here," Dale chimed in. "Why do we have to wait to be attacked? Let's keep moving. Always be ahead of them."

Now others were nodding.

"We don't know where the Walkers are," Shane argued. "Anywhere we move we could be moving into a horde of them."

"We should keep moving away from the city," Dale suggested.

"But we're safe here," Shane said.

"Except for rogue hunters, shooting squirrels a little too close to camp," Glenn said, not even really thinking.

Everyone looked at him and he suddenly realized that he had put himself on the spot. He looked around, finally connecting his gaze with Daryl's. The hick was leveling him with a stare that was nothing short of menacing.

There was an awkward silence for a moment and Shane half expected Daryl to lunge across the fire and attack Glenn, because that's how Daryl and Merle both dealt with criticism. But after a moment, everyone just took the comment as an offhand jab at the Dixon brothers and continued with the debate.

Glenn finally released the breath he'd been holding, thankful that the conversation had continued without him needing to explain further. But the searing glare Daryl was sending him, told him that he would have to pay later for the remark.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The second time it had happened, it was more on Glenn's terms.

Glenn recognized that his idea wasn't exactly the brightest, but ever since the first time, he'd begun to have hankerings. Hankerings for freakin' Daryl Dixon. White trash extraordinaire.

And Glenn being Korean was probably a problem for Daryl, since the hick had yet to master the tough intricacies of basic human equality. But then again, the fact that he was Korean was probably equally as bad as him being… I don't know –  _a man_. So, two strikes against him, well, at least as far as wooing Daryl Dixon was concerned.

But then again, the reason they had screwed the first time, was pure, instinctual need. And as far as Glenn knew he still had his basic instincts intact so  _logically_ they should seek each other again… to satisfy their fundamental needs. It all made sense. It did.

Unfortunately, Daryl Dixon did not function off logic. He lived and breathed his surface emotions. When he was angry, he showed it. When he was annoyed, everyone knew about it. He was hot-tempered and wound tight.

And he was almost always with that damned brother of his.

If Glenn were to ever, ever, ever "make a move" it would have to be when Merle was no where to be seen. Preferably off hunting for a couple days or… you know,  _dead_. But for the past couple of hours, the Dixon brothers had almost always been within each other's eye sight. Whether it was just doing small manual labor or cleaning the array of weaponry they had stockpiled near their tent, they were practically within arms reach.

Glenn knew this because he had decided to camp his little butt right next to Dale's RV, in perfect position to spy on Daryl's movements. He had successfully preoccupied himself by assisting with the lookout duties or by performing little favors for Dale. After all, he didn't want to make it painfully obvious that he was stalking his fuck buddy.

And then a hand suddenly appeared on Glenn's shoulder. "So, Glenn," Dale said, breaking Glenn's devious thoughts.

"Geez," Glenn said, jumping at the unexpected physical contact.

"Sorry," Dale said, realizing that he had scared the younger man, although a smile lay on his lips as he apologized. "Didn't mean to frighten you." He had a fold up chair in his hand and he placed it out next to Glenn's. "Saw you sitting here alone and thought I'd join ya."

Glenn gave a quick smile, welcoming the guest.

Just at that moment, Merle's voice became loud as he laughed harshly about something Daryl said. The brother's exchanged a quick back and forth before calming down again and lowering their voices.

Glenn watched the display, really only watching Daryl. Because there really was something great about the way he laughed. And he only laughed when he was around his brother. And Glenn suddenly realized that he wanted to witness Daryl smile like that, but in response to something he said.

"Glenn?"

Again Dale broke Glenn's wet dream.

"Yeah," Glenn said, trying to recover smoothly.

"Something on your mind?" Dale said, glancing back over to the Dixon brothers, wondering if there was a connection there.

"Nah, no," Glenn said, waving his hand as if he were physically pushing the question away from himself. "Nothing more than usual."

Dale didn't respond for a long moment, but he eventually accepted Glenn's brush off. "Okay," he said, but his tone implied that a later discussion on the topic was going to happen.

But Glenn knew the likelihood of that conversation ever happening was less than the apocalypse just being a really bad nightmare. How would that conversation even start? " _So, yeah, Daryl and I…_ " vulgar hand gestures " _you know…_ "

But on a more serious note, talking about this to someone would probably be a huge release. A huge weight off his shoulders. A time when Glenn could get his thoughts together, get advice, and hopefully have a moment of clarity as in where he could think more logically about what he was getting himself into.

But the risk was too great. If he let the secret out, he would no longer be in complete control of it. And if word ever traveled back to Daryl, it would be his head (probably with an arrow through it). So it seemed the only way Glenn would ever talk about it, would be if Daryl lost in a fight with a Walker, which was a surprisingly grim thought.

By this point, Dale was satisfied with just sitting in comfortable silence, and Glenn had to admit that it was oddly relaxing. It was dusk and the day was cooling off. There was the occasional laugh or faded conversation for background noise. And everything, for the moment, seemed alright.

Hours passed and darkness truly hit, covering the camp site. Small fires popped up. The glow from the flames softly reflecting off of familiar faces. Evening had turned to night with no excitement and Glenn was beginning to think that another day would pass without so much as word between himself and Daryl.

But then an idea formed in his head. And this is the where the whole "not the brightest idea" part comes into play.

Glenn had to wait for the perfect moment, and when it did appear, he quickly (but silently) followed Merle, cutting him off right before he hit the edge of the woods. It had taken hours, but finally Merle had broken from his campsite. He was probably going to piss or scratch his balls in private, who the fuck cares, but he was finally away from Daryl.

"Hey, Merle?" Glenn said, slipping right in front of the larger man.

"What do you want?" Merle asked, not really stopping but brushing past Glenn and continuing into the woods.

"Hey, I didn't want to panic the rest of the group, but I was on lookout and I'm pretty sure I saw movement up on the ridge." This, of course, was a lie.

"Up on the ridge?" Merle seemed both suspicious and annoyed. "How the hell did you see movement that far off?"

"It's hard to see, but I'm fairly sure that there are figures moving out there… I just think someone should go check it out."

"Why the fuck did you think of me?" Merle finally stopped.

"Because you're the best for the job. You won't get freaked out and you're a good hunter. You could kill a couple geeks easy," Glenn said. "And you always have your weapons on you." And it was true; he was carrying an ax with him.

Merle exhaled heavily, very obviously annoyed.

"Please, Merle."

"Alright. Alright," Merle said. "But I'm gonna fucking take a piss first."

And the trap was set. Now on to the second part of his not-so-brilliant-but-seemed-to-be-working-out-okay -enough plan.

However, when he arrived back to camp, an unexpected curve ball was thrown his way. Instead of Daryl sitting alone near his tent, Dale was talking to him. Glenn cursed in his head. Slowly he walked by the conversation the two men were having.

"Just make some quick rounds around the perimeter before everyone turns in for the night. It's probably nothing, but it would make an old man feel a lot better," Dale was saying.

Daryl considered Dale's words, finally wordless agreeing.

"Thanks," Dale said, as Daryl retrieved his crossbow from the severed tree stump he had laid it on.

"Yeah," was Daryl's version of  _you're welcome_.

Dale moved away, traveling back to his RV. He spotted Glenn.

"I'm just having Daryl scope out the perimeter. Just a precautionary thing," he said in passing, going into his trailer.

"Oh, right," Glenn said, nodding.

Could this have ended up more perfect? Not only was Merle out of the picture for the moment, but Daryl was also separated from the camp.

So, thanks Dale. You actually really helped.

So, now he had to figure out how to follow Daryl without getting shot and killed. Easy enough, right?

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

"Fucking shit! Do you have a fucking death wish?" Daryl yelled-whispered at Glenn, who had unceremoniously got caught sneaking up behind Daryl.

"No, I…" And it was at this point that Glenn realized he needed to have legitimate reasons for following Daryl into the woods in the middle of the night.

Daryl, who was still getting over being snuck up on, suddenly burst into quick protests. "No, no, no, no, fuckin' no," he repeated, all too easily putting the pieces together. He put his hand out, like he was going to ward Glenn off if he were to decide to jump him or something.

The first thing that popped into Glenn's head was- why not? But then all of the hundreds of reasons why this was a horrible idea flew through and shattered that question, so he bit back his initial response.

"Just one more time," Glenn finally spat out.

"No," Daryl started. "You're not a habit I want to get into." And Glenn wondered if he had intended that to sound so dirty.

"But—"

"No!" Daryl yelled, advancing on Glenn and getting right in his face. "Shut your mouth chink! And go back to camp." He punctuated his words with a harsh shove.

The Asian stumbled but was shockingly undeterred by the assault. "You have no idea what I went through to get to this point!"

"This point?" Daryl asked.

"To get you alone… away from Merle."

"Oh yeah," Daryl said all smart-alecky. "What have you done?"

"I've been watching you for hours…" Okay, Glenn knew that probably sounded all kinds of creepy, but it just sort of came out. And not being able to clearly see Daryl reaction, Glenn figured he probably had that furrowed eyebrow, confused/angry look on his face. "And I finally concocted this plan to get you and Merle apart, so I sent Merle up on to the ridge because I said I saw something up there, but I really didn't." He ended slightly less confident from when he started because he just now deduced that Daryl might react kind of badly to him sending his brother on a wild goose chase in the middle of the night.

"Man, you've turned into a proper begging bitch haven't you?" Daryl said, actually sounding half amused.

"Call me whatever," Glenn said. "But please, I'm so fucking tired of my hand." He ended slightly desperate.

Daryl didn't answer, but Glenn's eyes were adjusting to the darkness and he could see that Daryl was debating the idea.

"You know this works," Glenn said. "It's a win-win for the both of us, and no one has to know. Ever." He was about to say, and Merle will never know, but he decided to use "no one" instead, because using Merle's name might push a button and he might lose whatever advantage he now had.

A silence settled and Glenn was almost too scared to move. Was he winning this battle? Cause he could really see this going a lot of ways. But if possible he preferred the outcome that had him panting and writhing on the floor.

He wanted to add "please" or "Daryl" but would his words work for or against him right now?

"No," eventually said. It was soft, hardly audible. "No," he confirmed louder this time.

And Glenn felt a sinking, desperate feeling. "Daryl," he said, fucking it all. "Don't kill me." That was his disclaimer.

He took a step forward, and in one swift movement dropped to his knees and started working at Daryl's pants. And after a second or two went by without him getting walloped over the head, Glenn felt pretty secure with his actions. In an impressively smooth movement, he had Daryl out and in his mouth in seconds.

Instantly a pleasured grunt came from Daryl and unintentionally he stumbled back into the trunk of a tree, using it for support.

Glenn smiled, kind of proud of the reaction he ignited from the hick, especially considering this wasn't exactly an action he had mastered.

"Glenn," Daryl breathed out. "Stop," he finished weakly.

But the hardness of Daryl's dick was enough to confirm that he didn't want this to end.

Daryl's hand grabbed onto Glenn's hair and went to pull the Asian away, but Glenn did a quick experiment and swirled his tongue around the tip of Daryl's dick. The same hand that was meant to deter, ended up clawing roughly into Glenn's skull, urging the Asian to do it again.

And when the crossbow finally fell onto the ground next to them, Glenn knew he had gotten Daryl. Finally.

Daryl was hard and Glenn could taste pre-cum.

He pulled away.

"Now," he said, panting slightly. "Will you fuck me?"

"Get up," Daryl ordered, pulling Glenn up as he said the words. He roughly helped Glenn dispose of his pants, yanking the smaller man around so that the Asian was facing the tree.

"You ready?" Daryl asked hoarsely.

Glenn was surprised that the question was even asked, but he answered with a very grateful, "yes."

Luckily Glenn was already completely hard, and he had to admit to himself that it was mostly because of Daryl. Not the situation, but Daryl himself. The way he moaned and his lust-filled expressions were… more than enough to get Glenn yearning. This was very new for him. And he would probably mull over it later, but he found it hard to care at the moment.

Daryl was harder this time when he entered, but it went smoother, due to the fact that they were both so turned on. Glenn almost hugged the tree in front of him, taking in and harboring the impact of every thrust Daryl gave him. He braced his forehead against the trunk and felt the scrap of the bark against his skin. He'd have cuts later. He tried to stifle his moans, but he kept catching himself a little too late. They just seemed to slip out.

This was better than the first time. From start to finish, it felt amazing. Even though he had to resort to his own hand again when he climaxed… as far as fucking went, it was pretty damn fantastic.

When they both finished, Daryl pulled away, leaving Glenn slumped against the tree. When Glenn finally surfaced back to reality, Daryl had dressed and was kneeling on the ground. His hands covered his face. And for a moment, there wasn't anything too strange about it, but then Daryl stayed too still for comfort.

"Daryl…"

Daryl's hand flew from his face and the man grimaced. "Shut up." He suddenly stood. "God!" he spat. "This fucking shit…" he trailed off. He went over to his bow and picked it up and went to walk away.

"Daryl," Glenn tried again.

The hick raised the bow and shoved it into Glenn's face. "I said shut the fuck up!  _Just shut the fuck up_!"

Glenn decidedly obeyed this time, closing his mouth but not looking away.

They kept eye contact for a moment and then Daryl's lip twitched and he spun away, walking deeper into the woods and away from camp.

Glenn bit back a protest, and watched Daryl's figure disappear into the darkness. He considered following but thought better of it.

After all, he had practically manipulated the guy into having sex with him. A fact that could amount to something pretty advantageous for the both of them, but could also end up being the worst fucking mistake of his life.

 


	3. The Third Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter finally connects my storyline to the plot of the show. So, there will be a lot of generalizing of the show's plot, but with slashy goodness sprinkled in.

The next morning rolled around, and Daryl had not returned to camp. Merle was beginning to loudly question the absence of his brother, and Glenn took the initiative and claimed that Daryl had decided late last night to go off hunting. Glenn proceeded to make up facts like: there was more game at night because most small woodland creatures were nocturnal and that Daryl could more easily escape a geek in the cloak of darkness that nighttime provided. He really had no idea if he was at all being convincing, and by the look on Merle face… he wasn't.

"Look," Glenn said. "He took his crossbow." A simple fact, but none the less a very convincing one. "If he had been attacked, it would still be here. But it's not. So he must've decided to leave on his own will."

Merle looked at the empty tree stump where the crossbow usually lay and finally nodded, agreeing with the Asian. And, like dominos, everyone else lost interest and believed Daryl was off hunting on his own free will. Glenn figured that most people wouldn't much care either way if Daryl had just disappeared, but those people didn't realize just how beneficial the Dixon brothers really were. The brothers did, after all, provide most of the provisions.

Daryl had been known to take long hunting trips, especially when he was tracking a specific animal over large distances, but the longer he stayed absent, the more nervous Glenn became. Morning turned to brutal afternoon, the sun bearing down on everybody, and eventually the sun rolled over the sky and was beginning to set. Still no sign of Daryl.

Certainly Daryl might say fuck you Glenn and everybody else, but surely he wouldn't leave his brother behind with the dense, overly sentimental camp folk. So as long as Merle stayed planted where he was, Glenn continued to feel a small connection to Daryl… like he wasn't lost forever.

The sky was beginning to turn pink, signaling darkness's approach, and Glenn was praying that Daryl would emerge from the woods before night set. Hell, he didn't care if Daryl came out shooting wildly at him or cursing him out. He just wanted that damned hillbilly to get his ass back to camp.

He caught himself pacing a couple times, and he was pretty sure he was beginning to intuitively freak some people out.

"Son," Dale yelled out, his eyes leveling Glenn and interrupting his incessant pacing. "Come inside for a second." Dale motioned into the RV.

He did so, noticing that Dale shut the camper door after he entered.

"What's up?" Glenn asked.

"I know you're worried about Daryl," Dale started.

"What?" Glenn felt a surge of panic and he didn't know exactly how to continue.

"Sometimes sex can complicate relationships—"

"What?" Glenn practically yelled. "I don't know what you're talking about," he hurriedly said, knowing the amount of panic he showed could only reveal the truth. He tried to calm down, biting his bottom lip.

"Calm down, son," Dale said annoyingly composed. "It's no secret. I've known for at least a week now."

"What?" Glenn wanted to ask how, but that would confirm that he and Daryl were actually screwing.

"It was by accident," Dale assured. "But I saw you two… about a week ago. You were in the woods, in broad daylight." His last statement hinted at the fact that he didn't think having sex during the day was the brightest idea if it was supposed to be such a sacred secret. "And you two almost caught me. My leaving was so hasty that I wasn't very quiet doing it."

So, Dale was the source of the twig snapping.

Glenn stood, dumbfounded, having no words in which to respond.

"I admit," Dale continued. "That my initial reaction was negative. Well," he paused. "That was after recovering from pure shock."

And Glenn had to nod in agreement. Understandable reaction.

"I thought that you were treading in dangerous territory with that Dixon boy. He's like a caged animal without his cage. And I just about had the mind to tell you to leave it alone, for good. It seemed you had taunted the animal once and survived fairly unscathed… to go back again seemed to be asking for trouble. Of course, I'm assuming these kinds of interactions have not been frequent?"

"No," Glenn answered. "What you saw was the first time."

"That's what I figured." Dale nodded. "But you went back again… didn't you? Last night."

Glenn closed his eyes, severely regretting his decisions the previous night. But he confirmed Dale's assumption. "Yeah."

"And I admit," Dale said, guilt sliding over his features. "That I am not exactly innocent in all of this."

"How so?"

"I saw Merle walk off and I approached Daryl, giving him an excuse to go off alone, in case you two wanted to…"

"What?" Glenn asked. "What ever happened to him being a dangerous animal without a cage?"

"Well, I figured that I didn't have a right to judge what you two young men do. For all I knew, it could have been a very loving arrangement you two had," Dale finished and Glenn gave him a " _are you kidding me?_ " look.

"I decided," Dale emphasized. "That the decision should ultimately be yours. It is the apocalypse after all. So, I helped the situation come to fruition, if you so wished for it to happen again. I simply set up the playing board, but I am not the game pieces."

Glenn groaned, slapping his hand to his forehead. "Don't you realize that the game pieces are sex starved and very hormonal? Logical decisions are not made in these types of situations."

"So I'm assuming that Daryl bolted, huh?" Dale asked.

"Yes," Glenn confessed. "Just went ballistic and walked off."

"Glenn," Dale said, grasping the younger man's forearm and calming him. "That was Daryl's decision. So was the sex. He can blame it on you all he wants, but when it comes down to it… he allowed it. So, he panicked. This is Daryl Dixon… that's kinda what he does. And you know how skilled he is at surviving. Out of anybody, I would choose him to be out in the woods alone, because I know he knows how to survive. Regardless of the outcome… it's not your fault."

Glenn didn't like the sound of ' _regardless of the outcome_.' Daryl would return… there could be no other outcome.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The night passed with no sign of Daryl. Only Merle voiced worry.

The next day, a group was picked to go into Atlanta for supplies. Glenn was supposed to lead the team in, execute the plan and return with more provisions. After some protest from Glenn about having to take numerous people on the journey, he eventually agreed, hoping the trip would take his mind off Daryl.

Unfortunately, Merle volunteered to come along, so it seemed that Glenn just couldn't escape the Dixon brothers – literally or otherwise.

While in the city Glenn saw and saved a guy named Rick Grimes. An idiot that tried to ride a freakin' horse into the heart of Atlanta. But he had a soft spot for underdogs so he saved the guy.

And it was lucky he did, because Merle was getting a little out of hand and this Rick guy seemed to know how to handle him. He actually handcuffed Merle to a pipe on the roof of a building. And ended up leaving him there. Granted, it wasn't intentional but everyone's lives were at risk so decisions had to be made.

It wasn't until Glenn was speeding out of Atlanta in his hijacked car that he realized the potential ramifications of leaving Merle behind… he was all Daryl had. And guilt began to set it. But then again, he was a little preoccupied trying to fight for his own damn life… a pretty legitimate reason, so how much responsibility could he really take upon himself?

And he kept this mind frame for a while. Throughout discovering that Rick's wife and son were actually members of their camp. And throughout the conversation that night about "what to do with Daryl when he finds out about his brother." Everybody dreaded the confrontation, but no one more than Glenn.

But it all changed the next day. It started with a yell from Carl, Rick's young son. A Walker had stumbled near the camp. When Glenn ran to kill it, along with the rest of the men, he noticed it was feasting on a fallen deer… with arrows sticking from its side. Immediately, Glenn's stomach dropped, knowing who couldn't be far behind those arrows. But at the same time, relief almost overcame the worry and fear he felt at seeing Daryl again.  _Almost_.

Together they successfully killed the Walker and not too long after Daryl stumbled from the woods. He looked momentarily surprised by all the people, armed and pointing weapons at him, but he quickly deduced what had happened and anger gripped him. He kicked the Geek, made numerous snide remarks and made his way back to camp. Ignoring Glenn completely.

The confrontation was quite the scene everyone anticipated. Daryl lunged at a couple people, pulled his knife and there was a brawl. It ended with Daryl finally succumbing. Everyone confessed to playing a role in leaving Merle on the roof, and admittedly Glenn remained on the outside. He wasn't ever directly involved in leaving Merle, so why should he voluntarily makes himself look even worse in Daryl's eyes?

But later that day, when Rick asked him to come with him and Daryl on a mission to save Merle and pick up the lost guns, he agreed. He didn't want to, but he wanted the opportunity to make this up to Daryl, even if it wasn't really his fault. He had single-handedly hurt Daryl enough.

But when they got back to the rooftop, the scene was nothing short of gruesome. Merle's severed hand lay stiff on the ground, blood pooled around it. A bloody saw and handcuffs were motionless at the scene, allowing everyone to infer what had happened. Merle might still be alive, but he was no where near here anymore. He was somewhere in the city now. And looking for him was a feat no one was willing to explore. They would do what they could, but the outcome looked grim.

Daryl's reaction was the worst part. He screamed "no" over and over, pain clear in his strangled voice. It was obviously not in Daryl's nature to show any emotions that would indicate weakness – such as grief or heartache. So when he couldn't help himself, he covered the vulnerable emotions with his anger.

He pulled his crossbow on T-Dog, and Glenn had an immediate flashback of when he was in T-Dog's exact position – helpless with an arrow staring him down. But something within him knew that Daryl would never actually shoot the man. It helped, of course, that Rick put a gun to Daryl's head, but regardless, Glenn knew the outcome would've been the same.

Once Daryl calmed, he wrapped the severed limp and turned for the first time to Glenn. He waved his hand, briefly touching Glenn's arm as he non-verbally asked for him to turn around. Daryl slipped the hand into his backpack, the moment was tense, but after the pack was zipped up, Daryl moved away and continued talking about his brother. To outsiders, it appeared nothing was going on between them. And it seemed that Daryl was also so distracted by the morbid turn of events that he had momentarily forgotten about their risky liaisons.

It wasn't until later when he devised his plan on how to retrieve the guns that Daryl first spoke to him.

"Even I think it's a bad idea, and I don't even like you much," he had said.

Glenn defended his proposal, trying to ignore the whole "I don't even like you much" part. But it did mean that Daryl liked him a little… right?

And when he was through describing his plan fully, he knew Daryl was impressed when he asked, "Hey kid… What'd you do before all this?"

This was the first personal question Daryl had ever asked him. "Delivered pizzas… why?" He added the question to try and lighten the mood. He thought it worked, but he didn't ask Daryl to find out.

And then in the alleyway, where he had intentionally placed himself and Daryl- partially because his crossbow was quieter than Rick's gun- but also because he felt more comfortable being defended by Daryl – he perceived this as a possible moment to "drop a hint" or off handedly mention their sex-capades, but ultimately decided against it.

For one thing, Daryl was definitely in his "killer" mode and would probably shut down the conversation immediately. And secondly, he was about to risk his life for a bag of guns… so maybe his concentration should solely be on that. Yeah.

And just before he sprinted out of the alleyway, Daryl made a small snide remark, "You got some balls for a Chinaman."

And Glenn just couldn't help but retort, "I'm Korean."

Second personal fact of the day. It seemed that they found out more about each other when they were devising plots to avoid zombies than when they were fucking each other.

And they were just like a bickering couple. Daryl added a snarky, "Whatever" as a cherry on top, and Glenn rolled his eyes. He had really found himself a sensitive man.

As expected, Glenn's plan did work. It did. But then some gangsters came and fucked the whole thing up, kidnapping Glenn in the process. As one of them gripped him, dragging him back out onto the street, he yelled for Daryl. He screamed the hick's name and it sliced through the air, prompting Daryl to send an arrow straight into a gang member's ass. But there were too many of them and he was thrown into a car, the last image he saw was of Daryl throwing himself against the chain linked fence and screaming for them to bring him back.

And for a while, he was really scared. The worst was when they had him on the roof and threatened to throw him off. But he quickly learned the truth and realized he was safe. He was both happy and somewhat surprised to see that Daryl was part of his rescue team and he wondered if it was because Daryl wanted to be there or because Rick made him because it was the right thing to do. You know, cause Rick's like that – all righteous and shit. But it didn't matter. He was safe. They were all back together  _and_  they had managed to get most of the guns. All in all, it seemed good.

Until they realized Merle had stolen their vehicle.

And then worst when they finally got back to camp and were greeted with screams. They were being attacked and all four of them jumped into survival mode, killing all the geeks and trying to salvage all that was left of their camp. People died and for a while, it was chaos. Even after all the geeks were long dead, the camp was shaken and in disarray. So many people had scattered that Glenn couldn't tell who was alive and who wasn't. He searched for survivors, his eyes quickly scanning the area, the air hitching in his throat as he tried to calm his breathing.

And then it happened – his eyes met Daryl's. It was quick – maybe a second long, their eyes connected – and it was all he needed to calm down. He knew in that second that Daryl had survived and everything just seemed a lot better. Of course, he wasn't about to go around laughing, but he couldn't even explain the weight that had just been lifted.

The moment was quickly over and Daryl slipped into the woods, making sure that no other geeks were approaching the camp and Glenn moved on as well.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

An hour later, everything had calmed significantly. The dead had been tallied and people mourned. The ones that weren't were trying to make an effort to clean the wreckage. But in the dark it was difficult and dangerous. More Walkers could be approaching and they needed to be quiet. They encouraged people to get in their tents and stay. No fires tonight. No telling stories. Just get tucked away until morning.

And that's what Glenn did. He went into his tent and zipped the entrance. Sometimes it was scary being alone in his tent, but even worse than that was that it got fucking lonely. Sure he had people to talk to and be with during the day, but at night he craved companionship. And not just sex. He needed to sleep next to the harmony of someone's slow inhale and exhale. He wanted to hear someone move, rustling the sleeping bag as they shifted in their sleep. Just that comfort of knowing someone else was right there. He missed that more than anything.

But tonight, fear was the overpowering emotion. He had seen Walkers sneak up and overwhelm humans before, but it still sent a shock to his system. Death could come that easily… that fast. His fingers still gripped the end of a baseball bat – fairly fitting weapon for his attire – and he doubted he'd even release the grip in his sleep… if he were to even get any.

There were sounds around his tent. Noises which were invisible and terrifying. He thought he heard footsteps, and then he was positive he did. He crouched at the entrance flap, unzipping the door ever so quietly. He maneuvered out, listening intently for the sounds. He heard them about 30 feet away, in the darkness of the woods. And lo and behold a Walker appeared – a straggler probably, and Glenn raised his bat. He had killed Walkers before, but it was usually with the help from others. But now he was alone. One on one.

The Walker had yet to recognize his presence and Glenn wanted to take the advantage he had. He moved stealthily, closing the distance between them, and just before he reached the undead man he raised his weapon and… The Walker's head whipped back as Glenn saw a flash of an arrow slice through his deformed face. In less than a second the Walker was motionless on the ground. Dead for real this time.

Glenn spun around and saw Daryl come out from behind a tree, bow still raised. The hick approached and hovered over the zombie for second, studying his shot. Finally satisfied, Daryl extracted the bow and wiped the blood onto his pants.

Glenn was still staring at him. "I totally had him," he finally said, a little annoyed by the assistance.

Daryl gave a look that suggested he thought otherwise. "Never can tell with you."

Glenn rolled his eyes.

"Send you to go get a bag of guns and you end up getting yourself kidnapped by fake ass gangsters," Daryl said, sounding disgusted with Glenn's inability to  _not_  get kidnapped.

"Hey," Glenn defended himself. "I believe I remember you being overtaken by those fake gangsters as well. And I recall you couldn't help me much when I was being dragged away and stuffed into a car!" His voice was getting somewhat loud.

"At least I gotta good shot in," Daryl said.

"And you're lucky you didn't—" His words were abruptly cut off as Daryl roughly turned him around and covered his mouth with his hand. It was almost as if Daryl was hugging him from behind, but with only one of his arms. The other was outstretched with the crossbow cocked and ready.

"Shh!" Daryl said, close to his ear.

And then Glenn saw why Daryl had done what he did. Three geeks were suddenly within ten feet of them.

An arrow shot forth, taking out the closest Walker. Disposing of Glenn, Daryl grabbed another arrow and reloaded the bow. Within seconds he was going for another geek. Glenn took this opportunity to grab his bat and prove to Daryl that he was capable of taking out a Walker by himself.

And that's what he did. With a couple good blows, the zombie was on the ground and it was easy enough to bash the skull in. He was careful not to splatter any of the blood and made sure nothing got on him. But the amount of energy it took to sufficiently take out the Walker was great, and Glenn felt suddenly exhausted. He swung his body around to face Daryl again, and his forearm collided violently with a nearby tree. The trunk had the twisted off remains of a limb jutting out sharply and the hit was hard enough to break Glenn's sensitive skin.

Within seconds, fresh blood oozed from the wound that the gnarled bark had given him.

"Fucking shit!" he cursed, partially because of the shock, but mostly because it fucking hurt! He'd have to learn to keep his arms under control the next time he went to exhaustedly turn around.

He covered the large cut with his other hand, feeling the warm, dark blood leaking in between his fingers.

"God damn it!" he continued in an angry whisper. "That is enough!"

Something within him had finally snapped. Maybe it was the piling stress that finally erupted. Or maybe this painful injury was that final straw that just made him go ballistic, but he was suddenly very tired of dealing with Daryl Dixon.

"I am sick of this!" he yelled at Daryl, who seemed frozen in place, bow still hanging motionless in midair. "I'm tired of taking your shit all of the time. I'm not gonna stand here and be ridiculed after I risked my life for your fucking brother! You should be thanking me but I don't believe those two words are in your vocabulary. So, just fuck off Daryl!"

And if he could've slammed his tent flap than he freakin' would have. But instead he just roughly swung it back closed after he entered. Much less potent, he had to admit, but it got his point across.

Or he thought he did, but seconds later Daryl crawled into the tent with him.

Glenn didn't hide his surprise. "I thought I made myself perfectly clear…" he said. "I don't want to fucking see you."

"You're such a fucking idiot!" Daryl hissed, his eyes staying firmly on the blood that ran down Glenn's hand. "I said to let me handle the Walkers… and look what fucking happened!"

"What…?" Glenn studied his own wound, realizing that Daryl thought the Walker had given this to him… not an immobile tree. And the full implications hit Glenn… so Daryl thought he was about to die? About to change into a Walker?

Glenn's eyes came up to meet Daryl's. The hick looked on guard, like Glenn would just suddenly become a zombie and attack him. Daryl's fingers tightened for a moment on the trigger of the bow, but he kept it pointed at the ground… for the moment.

"You can't save everybody."

Glenn had no idea why he said it. He wasn't even dying, but some unseen force willed him to act like he was.

Curiosity, maybe?

Daryl shifted onto his knees, crawling closer to Glenn and snatching the Asian's forearm. He silently examined it.

"Don't kill me," Glenn said, worried that Daryl might put an arrow in him right then and there and be done with it.

Daryl grunted, roughly throwing Glenn's arm away from him. He closed his eyes and dug his hands into the ground, as if he were bracing himself against something invisible. "You are the stupidest…. fucking…"

And Glenn became defensive. "Hey, I'm not—"

But his words were cut off by Daryl grabbing him and literally yanking him into a kiss. And for a moment, there was immense confusion, as Glenn realized what exactly was happening to him. But then his arms found their way around Daryl, with his fingers gripping the hick's shoulder blades and running through his hair.

Daryl commanded the kiss and Glenn willingly followed. It was simple, purely lips to lips, but it was hard and firm and… over too quickly.

Before Glenn fully enjoyed the experience, Daryl had pushed him away and distanced himself, leaving Glenn in a whirlwind of disorientation and stimulation.

"Whoa," he said, panting slightly.

That was their first kiss. They had just fucking  _kissed_!

Glenn had figured that one day they would probably end up fucking again… When? He didn't know. But  _never_  did he imagine that they would ever kiss… and certainly not with so much… vigor.

"Holy shit," he then said, swallowing hard. "Daryl?" God, he hoped Daryl wouldn't do his classic freak out moment.

"Everything is falling apart," Daryl said quietly. " _Again_."

Glenn stayed silent, barely breathing.

"I dealt with the fucking apocalypse," Daryl said harshly. "I lost a lot. My family, my friends, my home… and  _I dealt with that_. I moved on. Me and Merle. But it's happening again…" his words sounded pained now.

"I'm losing everything… who the fuck knows where Merle is… if he's even alive. The camps in ruins… and now you—" his voice broke off. "I can't believe I let it happen again."

"It's human nature. To care about people… to become attached. It's what separates you from the geeks," Glenn said.

"Just shut up," Daryl said, grabbing behind Glenn's neck and pulling him in for a second kiss.

This one was just as rough, but this time, Daryl turned his head and opened his mouth against Glenn's. And Glenn responded, taking as much of Daryl as he could.

Every movement of Daryl's was pushing against Glenn, as if he craved more physical contact, but then in the slightest motion, Daryl was about to pull away.

Glenn didn't know why and he didn't care. "No. No. No," he said, trying not to break the kiss. " _Don't stop_." And just like that, Glenn was the leader, forcing Daryl to succumb to them kissing again. And really, it didn't seem like Daryl needed much convincing.

In one swift movement, Daryl picked Glenn off the ground and tossed him onto the sleeping bag. He followed quickly, not allowing the kiss to be broken for too long. He crawled over Glenn, straddling his small waist. Leaning down, he continued taking what he wanted with his mouth and he was beginning to search a little with one of his hands. His fingers traveled down, roughly tracing Glenn's ribs and hips, reaching around to the Asian's lower back momentarily.

Daryl's hand was commanding, prompting Glenn's body to respond with every little touch. And once Daryl's hand grazed down to Glenn's thigh, the younger man reacted by spreading his legs and allowing Daryl between them.

The action made Daryl give a grunt of approval, and Glenn could've sworn he saw a hint of a smirk on the man's face.

Daryl took the next step by pulling Glenn's shirt over his head, tousling the Asian's silky black hair. Discarding the clothing, Daryl moved his mouth across new territory and Glenn couldn't help but put his hands on the back of Daryl's head. Daryl's stubble felt good against the sensitive skin of his chest and the heat from his mouth was driving him mad. He was so unbelievably hard that he arched his hips up, craving contact.

And then he felt Daryl's teeth and admittedly moaned loudly. He tried to cut himself off, fearing that being too loud would attract attention. Hell, too much moaning and the camp would probably mistake them for the groans of Walkers… which would put them in quite the predicament.

Glenn closed his eyes. He had never quite felt sensations this strongly before, and one minor detail kept trying to ruin the moment.

"Stop," he breathed out. Fuck, he didn't mean stop, because hell, he never wanted to stop. "Wait," he corrected himself. Yeah, wait sounded a lot better than stop.

Daryl gave a soft groan that said,  _why the fuck are we stopping_? But he pulled away, looking up at Glenn.

"I'm sorry," Glenn began. "I don't even know why I did it… but I lied to you."

"What are you talking about?" Daryl asked.

"I'm not fucking dying," Glenn confessed, sounding really apologetic. "This…" he held the wound up. "Wasn't from the Walker."

"Then what was it from?" Daryl asked, sitting up fully.

"A tree," Glenn said, embarrassment beginning to mix in with all of his other emotions. "Just a tree."

"A tree…?" Daryl repeated. "Well, hell…" A small smile broke onto the hick's face. "A fucking tree." He leaned back down and came within an inch of Glenn's face. "You are one fucking lucky chink," he whispered, initiating a kiss which was surprisingly soft.

"Okay," Glenn said, surprised by such a calm reaction to his confession. "So, just so you know. This wasn't some elaborate attempt to get you here… for  _this_." His small eyes took in the sight of Daryl Dixon straddling over his half-naked body.

"Well after last time, I'm not sure if I believe you," Daryl said.

"I swear," Glenn said seriously. "Last time was a mistake. I shouldn't of—" and then he let out a sudden gasp as Daryl cupped his hand over Glenn's erection, his fingers brushing the underside. Glenn's back arched and he clenched his eyes closed, biting back another loud moan.

Daryl leaned down, right next to his ear. "Shh…" he whispered.

Glenn nodded quickly. "You're right… I'm being stupid. I'm shutting up." He dipped his head back and Daryl chuckled softly into his neck. With hurried fingers, Glenn grabbed the back of Daryl's shirt and brought it over his head and off. He went quickly for the pants next, unzipping them and pulling them down.

During this time, Daryl had successfully slipped his hand into Glenn's pants, letting his warm, callused fingers run over soft, smooth skin. Contact. Skin to skin and Glenn was writhing.

Suddenly Glenn's hand reached out and gripped Daryl's forearm. "I'm close."

"I'm aware," Daryl said, shrugging Glenn's arm away and continuing.

That was all the effort Glenn could muster. Daryl's hand pumped consistently and he felt his body moving with him, riding it. He felt the mounting pleasure between his legs and he couldn't help but say Daryl's name in the heat of his climax. His body went into spasms and he felt himself emptying as Daryl continued to slowly pump.

Glenn rested his arms over his head as he tried to steady his breathing.

Daryl watched him.

"Not that I am complaining…  _at all_ ," Glenn said. "But what was that for?"

"That was for not dying," Daryl answered.

"Well, you're welcome. I will not die every day if it means you'll do that to me every night," Glenn said, half joking but half serious as well.

Daryl gave a small smile, but didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry…" Glenn said, not really sure why he was going this direction, but he felt he needed to say it. "I'm sorry about Merle."

Daryl narrowed his eyes, and his hypothetical walls suddenly flew up and Glenn could literally sense their presence.

"He'll show up. You said so yourself, no one can kill Merle, but Merle," Glenn said. He sat up and in response Daryl moved away. All physical contact was gone.

"Jesus, kid," Daryl said. "Merle is the last fucking person I want to think about right now."

"Why?" Glenn asked.

"Why do you ask so many annoying questions?" Daryl replied.

"Come on, Daryl," Glenn said. "You just finished giving me a hand job…" And Daryl scowled slightly at this. "The least you could do is open up just a fucking little to me."

"Well, maybe I'm not the opening up type," Daryl said.

"Yes you are," Glenn said immediately. "I know you are. I've seen it in you when you think no ones watching." He paused for a moment. "Just give me one secret. One thing you've kept hidden away."

"One thing, huh?" Daryl repeated, sounding a little sarcastic. He shook his head, putting the heels of his hands to his face. Eventually he let out a loud exhale. "Fuck," he said. "Part of me is happy that Merle is gone."

"Okay," Glenn said, prompting the man to continue.

"I don't mean that I want him dead," Daryl said. "Because I don't. But… it's been sort of a relief to not have to deal with him… to not have to worry all the time."

"Worry about him?"

"Not exactly," Daryl said, meeting Glenn's eyes. "You know he'd string you up to a tree, cut you open and leave you for geek bait if he knew… that we…"

"I figured as much," Glenn said.

"But that is no worse than what he'd do to me," Daryl said. "He's my closest friend, but my biggest fear."

Glenn shifted, wanting to be closer to Daryl. "I'm sorry."

"Whatever," Daryl said. "I've dealt with it. I had to."

"Well," Glenn began. He was timid. He didn't know quite how to handle the situation, but this is what he had asked for. "You don't have to worry with me. I won't tell anyone about this."

And Glenn knew that Daryl didn't do sensitive, and wouldn't like being talked to like he was vulnerable little girl, so Glenn quickly continued.

"And I know I've been a major mood killer," he said. "So I would really like it if the communication stopped for the moment… the verbal kind anyway."

"Thank the fucking lord," Daryl said, taking no time to roughly pull Glenn over to him.

And,  _Jesus_ , Glenn did  _not_  mind the manhandling that was going on.

Once he was beneath Daryl again, he used the opportunity to let his own hand do some of the pleasuring. After all, he was the reason Daryl had become soft, and so he should be the reason he becomes hard again. Using his fingers, he gripped the shaft, moving up and down slowly at first, feeling little twitches and firmness beginning to manifest.

Daryl placed both of his elbows onto the ground on either side of Glenn's head, and the hick buried his face into the nook of Glenn's neck. He rubbed and kissed the Asian's neck, but mostly he was  _feeling_. Feeling Glenn's hand against him, satisfying him.

Glenn went to the underside and massaged there, feeling Daryl buck against his hand. The hick buried his head deeper, breathing out one small word, " _You_ …"

Daryl's hand went to his own cock, and using two fingers he wiped away the pre-cum that was spewing over the head. Lathering them, he used his elbow to spread Glenn's legs again, his intentions obvious.

At first he just circled the outside with his fingers, rubbing the tight orifice, before letting one of his fingers enter. Glenn hummed his approval, so Daryl quickly put two fingers in him, loosening the entrance and feeling the muscles within clench against him.

"No more fingers," Glenn panted. "I want  _you_  inside me."

And it was as if Daryl had read his mind, because he had already removed his hand and was positioning himself to enter.

Glenn put one of his legs on top of Daryl's shoulder, preparing himself. He felt the other man push into him and he grabbed at the sleeping bag beneath him, his knuckles turning white.

"Fuck," Glenn grunted, as Daryl began to rock back and forth. It started out slow, but both of their needs were mounting and Daryl quickened his pace, making the pleasure constant for Glenn. He was hard again, so fucking hard.

They tried to be quiet, but it was difficult—part of Glenn wanted to just fuck it all and let the entire camp hear him, but logic kept him from doing so. He had just promised Daryl that he would never tell anyone… and letting your screams of ecstasy be heard for miles is  _not_  how you keep a secret.

But Glenn just couldn't stop some of his moans, and he almost bit through his bottom lip trying. Eventually, Daryl figured out the best solution and shut the kid up with his mouth. This lasted for a while, but then Daryl pulled away.

He hummed before he whispered, "I'm close…" And his hand went to Glenn's cock. He began to pump in the same rhythm as his thrusts.

Glenn came for a second time, hard and long.

It took Daryl a couple more thrusts and he was gone as well, shaking as he emptied himself into the Asian.

Glenn collapsed back onto the ground, feeling the ache of the muscles in his stomach as they relaxed after being tense for some time. He closed his eyes and felt as Daryl pumped into him a few more time, lengthening the pleasure from his orgasm.

Daryl relaxed; exhaustedly letting himself lay on Glenn. His sweat dripped from his body, but Glenn was already soaked as well so he could've cared less.

But due to how fucking hot it was there all the time, this position didn't last too long. Wearily, Daryl rolled off, splayed out next to Glenn.

Glenn couldn't help but sneak a peek at the man next to him. He was completely naked except for the pants bundled around his ankles. His body seemed to be composed of hard, thick muscle… much different than his own lean frame. Daryl was imperfect… but in a way that made him more endearing. He had wear and tear on his body, signs that he had led a rough life. A life of construction or manual labor. Hard tan lines ran along his body, proving that he was outside a lot. Some faded scars and bruises lay on rough skin.

A body so completely different than Glenn's, but so appealing. Glenn swallowed hard, noticing the muscles that rippled through the older man's arms and chest as he breathed and moved. It was almost hypnotizing, but Glenn forced his eyes away. Just in time, in fact, because Daryl suddenly sat up.

Oh no, here was the moment. The moment were Daryl would freak out and Glenn would take an onslaught of threats and jeers and be left confused and little irritated.

Glenn sat up onto his elbows. "Can we skip this part?" he asked.

Daryl looked at him. "Can you just give me a minute to think before you start badgering me?"

Glenn remained silent, settling back down onto the ground and placing his hands behind his head.

"I'm not exactly okay with this, alright?" Daryl said. "I'm not just going to get over it."

Jesus, would they ever be able to have sex without then being thrown into an emotional blender?

Daryl let out a short, harsh laugh. "God, you just can't ever keep your fucking mouth shut, can you?"

Glenn knew the comment shouldn't bother him – Daryl was upset and lashing out – but fuck, that man lashed out a lot and it gets old fast.

"Tell me," Glenn said, sitting up. "Are you more upset that this happened again  _or_ that it happened but we didn't fuck… we made love?"

Daryl pointed his finger angrily at Glenn. "Shut the fuck up. I would  _never_ —"

"What?" Glenn cut him off. "Make love to a man? Or to an Asian?  _Pick your poison_." And right after the words tumbled out of his mouth, he knew he had gone too far. He shouldn't have said anything in the first place. There was already one loose cannon and they didn't need another.

And he had to admit that he wasn't making this any easier for Daryl. He knew that Daryl was having a really hard time with this, not to mention, a pretty shitty last couple of days, so why couldn't he just keep his trap shut? It was the one fucking thing Daryl asked of him.

"God," he whispered, grabbing his pillow and placing it firmly over his face.

He would keep his mouth shut… but the damage was already done. He heard Daryl moving, probably dressing and trying to find his discarded shirt. When he looked up from the pillow Daryl was fully clothed and moving to leave.

And fuck if he was going to let this night end like this. But he knew if he said Daryl's name or told him to wait, it would be hell to pay. Because seriously, how many times can Daryl shove his crossbow in his face before it became ridiculous?

So he crawled over and grabbed Daryl's arm.

"Don't—" Daryl said, anger clear in his voice.

But Glenn put his finger over Daryl's mouth, his other hand gently cupping his face.

"What are—" Daryl started again.

"Shh…" Glenn coaxed, now gripping the man's face.

Slowly he moved in, just barely letting his lips touch Daryl's. He clenched his eyes shut, trying to convey all of his emotions with his actions, with his touch.

_I'm sorry, Daryl_ … and he kissed him again, feeling Daryl lips just barely moving against his.  _I'm so fucking sorry_. And then the kiss was deepened by him… or maybe by Daryl. It didn't matter. Soft touches became deep and needy. And Glenn inhaled deeply as he lost himself in the kiss…  _For everything_.

He pulled back, but kept his forehead against Daryl's.

Daryl kept his eyes closed, his fingertips still slowly tracing the side of Glenn's face. And then he softly reached out and gave Glenn one last little peck on the lips.

Apology accepted.

Glenn rubbed his eyes, feeling a sudden wave of exhaustion hit him. He sighed and practically fell back onto his sleeping bag. He looked at Daryl.

"No." Daryl smiled. "You might be off the hook, but we're not going to fucking cuddle."

Laughing, Glenn rolled onto his side.

One step at a time.


End file.
